


Portions For Foxes

by skyline



Category: Big Time Rush
Genre: Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-22
Updated: 2010-07-22
Packaged: 2017-11-15 18:39:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/530437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyline/pseuds/skyline
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When his father was done berating him, he clambered out of the car into the chill and the sunlight, pasting on the biggest fake smile he could muster. A fresh start; he could do that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Portions For Foxes

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for one of those drabble fic memes on LJ, where you set your iPod on shuffle and write fic with a word count that matches song length? Yeaaah. I wasn't going to post these here, but by special request: tada!

Carlos moved to Minnesota when he was fourteen. He automatically hated the place, with its trees and its snow and the way the people who lived there had this magical ability to smile so damn much their mouths had to hurt. But none of that mattered, because when he closed his eyes he could remember the feel of cold steel in his palm, the way he felt that night he spent in lockup, wondering if those bars were all he’d ever see for the rest of his life. It wasn’t exactly the most scenic view NYC had to offer, but it was the one that stood out in his memory.

So he sat quiet in the car while his papi gave stern instructions on the first day of high school to stay out of trouble, to keep his head down, damnit. Not to _fuck up_ , ever again. Back then, he was used to his father’s disappointment, to being an embarrassment.

When his father was done berating him, he clambered out of the car into the chill and the sunlight, pasting on the biggest fake smile he could muster. A fresh start; he could do that.

Maybe.

Three days in, Carlos managed to avoid making a single enemy or friend. An abundance of both was what got his whole family to up and move in the first place. Then this kid, this drama geek with girl hair and an open grin approached him, said he heard Carlos humming and wouldn’t he like to try out for the play? And all he wanted to do was punch him in the face, break that perfect fucking smile into pieces.

But he didn’t. He was supposed to change.

So he grit his teeth and said sure, and acted like this excited little monkey instead of the biggest badass mother fucker on the island, ‘cause he wasn’t back in Manhattan anymore. It was a new game. It was time for a new Carlos.

Next thing he knew he had a built in set of friends and got a reputation for acting like a spaz, but it was better than them knowing who he really was. What he’d _done_.

It was simpler. He laughed more than he ever had. He felt freer. It was the sky overhead, endless, and the way that boy with his stupid-pretty face wormed his way under Carlos’s skin. They masterminded pranks instead of crimes, and one day he turned around and his papi was proud of him.

It’s only two years later, when he’s about to sign his first record contract that he realizes; how pivotal that moment was.

How a single smile changed his life.


End file.
